


Runnin' with the Devil

by SomeoneAsGoodAsYou (the_wanlorn)



Series: The Devil in Broad Daylight [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: (it does not), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, I don't actually know, I think it's mild at least, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Season/Series 03, So many wing tags, There's porn but there's not much focus on the actual porn, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, Wingfic, Wings, if that makes sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 10:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16617353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wanlorn/pseuds/SomeoneAsGoodAsYou
Summary: If she wasn't sure she could successfully take on an angel, there was no way she was successfully taking on God.Was thinking about punching God in the face blasphemy?





	Runnin' with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Hey remember that time I said I wasn't going to post 5k of wing porn as a followup to my first post-s3 fic? Technically, I did not lie, because technically, this isn't 5k words. Because it's over 5k words. And the porn part is under 5k words. So either way, I'm covered.
> 
> Thank the devil for technicalities, amirite?

They ended up on the couch once Chloe coaxed Lucifer inside with hands and lips and whispered promises. He was still looking at her like she was going to come to her senses and run at any moment, and she couldn't help but wonder how long it would take to erase that look from his eyes.

"I'm a monster," he tried to tell her at one point, looking away, his voice harsh with his truth. "I murdered Cain. I made sure he would go to Hell. I-" He swallowed, shoulders twitching.

"It was self-defense," she tried to explain, covering his hand with hers, holding tightly to it as though she could force him to understand through the strength of her grip. "He tried to kill you." A thought struck her then, and she could feel her face softening as she realized- "Lucifer, have you ever killed someone before him?"

He stared at her for a moment, then suddenly stood, slipping his hand out of hers and striding to the bar. "I need a drink," he said, needlessly, as he turned from her.

"Lucifer," she said gently, thinking back to the first time she'd killed someone in the line of duty, of vomit and trembling hands and being unable to sleep for days. Of mandatory counseling and paid leave when all she wanted was to work herself into the ground so she didn't have to _think_.

"Would you like one, Detective?" he asked, holding up a bottle of whiskey and taking out another glass, still not looking at her. He stole a glance when she didn't answer, but turned away quickly, before she could catch his eye. "You might need one if you insist on talking about this."

"Okay," she said. "Okay."

"I-" he put down the bottle and gripped the bar, hard enough that she heard it creak under his fingers. "Yes. I've killed before."

He breathed out harshly, and she had to stifle the urge to get up and go to him. She felt foolish, for even asking. He was the Devil, of course he'd killed before. Humanity, humans, were nothing compared to him, and killing them must-

But, no. She couldn't finish that train of thought, not watching the way his shoulders were trembling, how he drained a glass of whiskey and immediately refilled it, how even when he turned to her he wouldn't look directly at her.

"Lucifer," she said again, quietly, and patted the couch next to her. "Come back and sit down."

"You may not want me to-" he started, eyes flicking everywhere but her.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she said, telling herself that it wouldn't bother her, not knowing exactly what he meant when he said he'd killed before. That she wouldn't lay awake at night wondering if she was dating — were they dating? Did the Devil date? They'd never gotten this far in discussing a potential relationship without something disastrous happening — a mass murderer or if it didn't count as murder when it was angel on human violence.

"You have a right to know," he said, nodding sharply to himself before coming over and sitting on the opposite end of the couch, handing her a drink as he did. "I-"

She waited for him to continue, taking a sip of the whiskey as the silence lengthened. When he didn't seem to be able to continue, she slid closer to him even as he twitched away from her. She couldn't leave him like that, though, looking bewildered and lost.

"Okay," she said as she leaned against him. He lifted his arm let it hover in the air for a moment before laying it on the back of the couch, letting her lean against him but not trapping her there. "So Pierce- _Cain_?" she asked suddenly, remembering his claim from months ago. "The Cain?"

"I'm afraid so," Lucifer said, smiling sadly down at her.

"I almost-" No, they were getting off track. She wasn't going to think about almost marrying him. Not now, maybe not ever. "He wasn't the first person you've killed."

All expression on his face vanished, leaving behind a blank mask that unnerved her more than seeing his other face had. "I-" He took another long sip of whiskey before blurting out, "I murdered my brother."

It took her a moment to process that, a moment that he filled with desperate justifications, words spilling out of him now that the dam had broken.

"He- He was going to kill you. Uriel. He could- That car accident- His power is- _was_ patterns, and he was about to set one in motion that would _kill you_ and I couldn't- I couldn't let him do that, Detective, and he wouldn't _stop_. I tried, I swear I tried-"

"Oh, _Lucifer_ ," she said and twisted until she was hugging him. She wanted to apologize for not believing him, for being the reason he had to kill his brother. Instead, she said, fervently, "Thank you."

"Ah, yes, well," he said, holding his arms out to the side for a moment like he'd forgotten how a hug worked before folding them around her. She ran a hand down his back, soothing, as he twitched and trembled in her arms.

When she pulled back, he still had that mystified and wary look in his eyes, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop with her, underneath that carefree facade.

"This is real, isn't it?" he asked after a moment of her watching him while she tried to gather her thoughts, his voice soft and uncertain as he reached up to touch her cheek with his fingertips. "I'm not dreaming?"

"You're not dreaming," she confirmed, pressing her hand to his, holding it against her cheek. "It gets easier, with time. Killing someone," she explained, when he looked at her, confused. "It never leaves you but you stop... you stop feeling so guilty about it."

His expression shuttered again. "I don't know if I'll be having the time for it to get easier. One of Dad's rules is for no angel to kill one of His precious humans." He smiled without mirth. "Only He's allowed to do that, apparently."

For a terrible, heart-stopping moment, she tried to imagine her life without Lucifer in it anymore. She couldn't picture it, and that alone was terrifying enough, but the idea that someone would _take him_...

"If they want you, they have to get through me first," she said, aware even as she said it how ridiculous that was. How could she possibly stand between him and any of his siblings? Or whatever God sent to punish him for having the audacity to protect himself and her from attempted murder?

For the briefest of moments, Lucifer smiled, his face lighting up before he grew serious again and took her hands in his. "While I appreciate the thought, darling, when someone does come to send me back to Hell or to- well, never mind that. When someone does come to send me back to Hell, you need to promise me to stay out of their way."

"But you just said they can't kill me," she protested. "You can't expect me to just sit back and do nothing."

"They can't kill you, but they can hurt you," he said, searching her face for something she knew he wasn't finding. "Please, Chloe, promise me."

She studied his face, the banked desperation in his eyes and the pleading set to his features, felt the way the muscles in his arms kept twitching, little flinches that made no sense. It was her name that did it, though; he used it so infrequently that when he did she couldn't help but give him whatever he was asking for.

"I promise not to stand between you," she said finally, and he relaxed with a relieved sigh.

"I couldn't bear it if something happened to you because of me," he said, quiet. "I'm hardly worth that."

"Don't say that," she immediately snapped. "Don't you dare. You're more than worth it to me."

And there was that look again, wonder suffusing his expression in a way she didn't deserve. People fell over themselves to be with him, and yet he looked at her like her simple loyalty was a precious gift and he didn't understand why it was being given to him. She wanted to find whoever made him feel that way and beat their head in, but she had the sneaking suspicion that it would be God Himself she was up against.

If she wasn't sure she could successfully take on an angel, there was no way she was successfully taking on God.

Was thinking about punching God in the face blasphemy?

Lucifer rolled a shoulder back, grimacing a little, and she couldn't ignore it any longer. "What's wrong?"

"Hmm?" he hummed, distracted as he rolled his shoulder back again.

"The twitching, the-" she did an exaggerated shoulder roll, scoffing a little when he paid more attention to the way it pushed her breasts out than the motion itself. "Focus, Lucifer."

"Ah, it's nothing," he said. "Just, my wings are a little worse for wear, that's all. It's a bit uncomfortable."

She remembered his wings, remembered the way they were covered in blood, ragged and unkempt when she saw them. It had been over twenty-four hours since then; he'd had plenty of time to clean them, she would have assumed. Maze had been there; surely she would have helped? Although, come to think of it, Chloe couldn't imagine Maze doing anything so delicate as helping Lucifer clean his wings.

She almost giggled as the unreality of it struck her again. Wings. Because Lucifer was the Devil and God and Heaven and Hell were real and she had so many questions that she didn't know where to start asking them.

"Do you..." she started before trailing off. Was it even appropriate to offer help? She was just a human, and they were _angel wings_. It was probably sacrilege for her to even consider touching them or something.

But, no. Lucifer had, for whatever reason, decided she was worth his time. He'd asked her, all those years ago, not to touch his wing scars, but they had barely known each other then, and in the time since he'd hardly shied away from physical contact with her. From the way he'd talked about them, they were just another part of his body, not something special.

"Do I what, Detective?" he asked, drawing her out of her musings as he leaned forward a little, curious.

"Do you need help?" she blurted, and closed her eyes at how inelegant that was.

"I-" Her eyes popped open at the undercurrent of wistfulness and restrained hope in his voice. He was watching her, his expression guarded but his eyes begging her to say yes. "Would you?"

"Of course," she said, reaching out to touch his cheek softly. "What do we need?"

They spent the next several minutes gathering supplies, including a bucket of hot water and washcloth, leaving her to wonder if he'd cleaned them at all, or had Maze help, since the last time she'd seen him.

When he was arranged, sitting in a chair with his folded arms resting on the back, he let his wings manifest.

She couldn't say anything for a long moment, taking in the bedraggled state of them — broken and misaligned feathers, blood and dirt speckled across them, a story of pain and suffering in every fleck — nothing like the gorgeous fakes she'd seen at that auction. Her silence must have lasted too long, because Lucifer was looking nervously over his shoulder when she came back to herself.

"Detective? Chloe?" he was asking, looking more and more concerned. "Don't tell me you're immune to my charms but not the divinity of my wings."

"Oh, Lucifer," she breathed — not for the first time that night and it wouldn't be the last — as she reached out to touch the feathers with her fingertips. "I didn't realize-"

He made a disgruntled noise. "Yes, yes, they're a divine gift from God Himself, more beautiful than-"

"-how bad it was," she finished, which shut him up with nothing more than a quiet, "Oh."

She followed a blood splatter to its origination and pressed her fingertips harder against the spot. The bullets he'd been protecting her from hadn't made it through the wings — that much was obvious by how she wasn't riddled with bullet holes — and there was no lump under her fingertips.

"Did Maze..." she asked, hesitant.

"Dig out the bullets with the expected amount of exuberance?" he said, his voice dry. "Yes, she did." He twitched again, this time the motion rippling through his wings like he was trying to shake off the filth.

She ran a hand through the feathers at the top of his left wing. It was a crime for something so soft and beautiful to be matted with blood. Lucifer sighed and slumped forward a little. She stepped closer, flexing her socked toes on the soft towels on the floor.

The bathroom was too small for this, he'd told her, and this wasn't how he wanted to get his bed dirty — she absolutely did not smack his arm for that — so he'd moved the furniture around and put down towels to catch the water runoff from his wings.

"Be careful of the pinions," he said abruptly as her hand drifted lower on his wing. "They're sharp."

"Lucifer. I'm not a bird scientist. I have no idea what a pinion is." She stopped, though, and busied herself in wetting the washcloth in the bucket of hot water and telling herself that she'd imagined the tiny bereft noise from Lucifer when she'd stopped petting him.

He snorted at her comment and said, "The long ones, at the bottom. Dad made our wings into weapons when He and Mum created us, and they'll take your finger off if you touch them the wrong way."

She blinked. Okay then.

There was too much for her to even begin to unpack in that statement. So she wrung out the washcloth and started to gently wipe the dried blood off his feathers, dipping it back into the water every so often and swishing it around to clean it. As she came to broken feathers, she plucked them out with a murmured apology for every flinch. Lucifer would start relaxing as she worked the warm water over his feathers, only to tense up again when she took hold of a broken one.

They fell into an easy rhythm together, and if it weren't for having to pluck a feather every ten or fifteen minutes, she thought she could find this soothing. As much as cleaning blood off someone could ever be soothing. At least he wasn't hurting from bullets anymore.

It was much, much later when she surveyed the wings in front of her, seeing no broken feathers and only a few spots left to clean.

"I think that's the last of the broken ones," she said, her voice quiet. Something about caring for his wings made it seem impolite to raise her voice.

He straightened up and did a little flap that made her jump back in surprise. His feathers fluffed up and then smoothed, and she almost laughed at how much he looked like a mildly disgruntled bird when he did that.

"I do believe they are." He checked the time and added, "Well then, I should let you get back to your spawn. It's getting late," and folded his wings back.

"Oh," she said, feeling oddly... sad? That she wasn't going to get to help make his wings go from a rumpled mess to something that she could only imagine as been sleek and shiny and soft. Then again, nothing ventured... "I could... You're still looking kind of rumpled there," she finally settled on.

"Rumpled?" He scoffed, and it was only because he was half turning toward her at the moment that she caught the brief flash of something like vulnerability on his face. "They're perfectly fine, Detective. They've gone millennia without being groomed by others, I hardly think that now- What? What is your face doing?"

She must not have hid the horror and sadness from her face very well, because he was looking at her with that vaguely perplexed expression he got every time he couldn't quite understand why a person was doing a thing. So she stepped in and did the only thing she could think of. She tilted his head up and kissed him, trying to infuse it with all of the things that she wasn't sure she could say yet.

For a moment, he froze, and she almost pulled back, but then he made a soft noise in the back of his throat and pulled her closer to him. When she finally broke away to breathe, he chased her lips for the barest second, making her smile. Then, as she leaned back in to kiss him more, she took a chance and firmly carded one hand through his feathers. He shuddered against her and made an almost imperceptible noise of pleasure.

"The offer's always open." she said against his lips before stepping away.

There was that vulnerable look on Lucifer's face again, this time not fading as fast, and she wanted to hug him and promise him that everything would be alright, just to see if it would make that look go away completely. Instead, she waited to see if he was going to say anything, and was rewarded for her patience.

"I suppose I've grown used to... looking _rumpled_ ," he said with obvious disgust at the word. "There wasn't anyone to help groom them in Hell and, well." He made a face, indicating his resigned displeasure with the situation.

"Not even Maze?" she blurted before she could think better of it, and Lucifer chuckled.

"Maze isn't one for gentle things, or have you not noticed that?" he pointed out, and she had to laugh a little ruefully at the truth of it. He continued with, "I suppose, if you wouldn't mind helping..."

She nodded. It was hours yet before she had to get back to pick Trixie up from Dan; there was time for this. It wasn't getting all that late. "What do I do?"

He gave her a quick lesson on how to run her fingers through his feathers to help nudge them back into alignment, then relaxed back down in the chair and lay his folded arms on the back again.

"Well," he said, and swallowed. "Have at them, Detective."

She buried her fingers in the soft, warm plumage and began drawing her hands down like he'd shown her. At first, Lucifer's back was stiff, and she almost asked him if he wanted her to stop. But he started to relax in incremental amounts, until, when she was halfway through the back of the first wing, he was boneless on the chair.

"Feels good?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"You have no idea," he said and let out a moan that shot straight to the center of her, filling her with surprising heat.

He was so relaxed, his head resting on his arms and eyes closed, that she couldn't help but ask. "When was the last time someone did this for you?"

He just looked so... happy, so at peace, that she wanted some reassurance that he'd been getting this at least once in a while, maybe from Amenadiel since Maze was a no. That the millennia comment was an exaggeration, given how he was prone to dramatics. The past six months had been so stressful, for all of them, and he just looked _so happy_ right then.

But he stiffened, and said, "Not since I Fell."

She couldn't help the intake of breath at that, the way her fingers clutched his feathers for a moment and she had to consciously relax them before he could tell her that he wasn't a bloody chicken to pluck. He tensed more at that, before obviously forcing his muscles to loosen. She resumed stroking her fingers through his feathers and waited a quiet few minutes before speaking again.

"I'm sorry," she said, coming around to the front to continue on the much neater inside of his wing. His skin under the feathers was warm, and she sighed a little as she worked.

He shrugged, "I can't blame you for being curious, now, can I? You can ask me anything," he said, his gaze suddenly intense. "You know that, right?"

She gave him a smile, locking gazes with him for a moment, just long enough for her to forget to be careful and slice a shallow cut in her finger with one of the longer feathers.

"Shit," she swore and immediately stuck her finger in her mouth. Lucifer jerked at the sudden loudness of her voice and sat up, gently taking her wrist and pulling her hand away.

"Let me see," he said, and reached back to pluck a soft, downy feather from his wing. "Close your eyes."

There was a bright glow of light, bright enough that she could see the veins in her eyelids, and then Lucifer was telling her to open them again and her finger had stopped stinging.

"What did you-" she started, and glanced down at her finger, her wrist still held in his hand. He didn't seem to be planning on letting go any time soon, or to even remember that he was holding on to her. "Lucifer," she said when it registered that the cut was gone. "Did you just use some kind of divine healing mojo on what was basically a _paper cut_?"

"Divine healing _mojo_ ," he repeated, sounding delighted. "Did you just call the healing power of an angel's feather _mojo_?"

"Well," she said, exasperated, "if you don't want me calling it that, don't waste it on-"

The intense look was back in his eyes as he said, sharply, "No. It's not a waste, never a waste, if it's for you. I would-" he cut himself off before finishing, and straightened a little, repeating, "It's not a waste."

Chloe could feel her cheeks redden at the fervor in his voice. It struck her, all at once, the magnitude of what being loved by him — and she couldn't deny that he loved her, even if he hadn't ever said it out loud — actually meant. That he would do anything for her, would probably die for her, just to make her life a little more easy. And that he was a great and powerful being who probably _could_ do just about anything.

She pushed the thoughts away, burying her fingers back in his feathers and continuing to preen them for him. He sighed as she did, a sigh of pleasure, and slowly his head dropped back down to his arms and he closed his eyes. Occasionally, as she ran her fingers through the tiny, softer feathers near the top, he would make a pleased sound, not quite a moan but not quite not either. It was doing things to her.

Things that made her want to find out what he sounded like when it wasn't his wing she was stroking.

She was pressed against his side, getting the last few feathers on that wing, when she felt him shift a little, his hips twitching just a fraction. She wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been so close, her body against him.

"Oh, you _like_ this," she said, an equal amount of amusement and smugness coloring her voice as she looked down.

"It's hard not to," he said, grinning at her in what she bet he thought was a sexy way, but just looked pleasure-drunk and happy.

"Something sure is hard," she said with another pointed look to his crotch, hoping to distract him from her red cheeks with obvious innuendo. After a second, she figured why not go all in, and added, "I suppose you want me to do something about that?"

He blinked at her, genuine surprise crossing his face, and she frowned. She thought she had been clear, earlier, in stating her intentions. Was she missing something? Had that whole conversation on the balcony not ended with a more suave way of saying, "Let's date and have lots of sex"? Had she not kissed him more than once since then? Was she misreading the situation entirely?

Before her thoughts could spiral too far out of control, Lucifer said, "I hadn't thought you'd want to, after..."

It didn't take a genius to add "you saw what I am" or some version of it to the end of his sentence.

"Lucifer," she said, touching his cheek and tipping his head up so he was looking at her. "I don't know how to make this clearer. I want you. All of you." She swept her thumb across his cheekbone as he leaned into her touch, eyes fixed on her. "And that definitely includes having sex with you. And dating," she added with a rush, still worried she had misunderstood what he wanted, especially after that disastrous dinner the other week, "if you want."

He turned his head just enough to kiss her palm and said, "I would like nothing more," and she relaxed. Then he smirked. "What happened to never having sex with me?"

"That guy, that I said that to? I would never have slept with him. I wouldn't now. But you? This you?" She smiled softly at him. "You've changed so much, Lucifer."

He didn't seem to know what to do with that, so she just moved to his other side, taking a moment to card a hand through his hair and muss it a little. He was adorable, and he was hers.

It didn't take long for him to be boneless again, and he was more vocal about what felt good this time, making little noises of appreciation and pleasure every time she straightened a feather that had been particularly out of place. She worked faster now, but no less meticulously, a low fire starting to burn in her belly.

When she finally got to the middle of his back again, she placed her hands flat against his skin, digging the heels of her hand in just the tiniest bit, drawing a groan out from him as she soothed the knots she could still feel in his back. "Good?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Perfect," he replied, twisting around and reaching up to pull her closer, but she was already there, leaning into him and meeting his mouth with hers.

She melted into the kiss as he opened his mouth to her, and made a pleased noise when he lazily moved it from something soft and tender to something hotter. Her tongue slid over his, slick and stoking the fire inside her. The kiss alone was better than anything in any of the various sex dreams she'd had involving him. She couldn't even find it in herself to be embarrassed by the needy noise in the back of her throat when he pulled away.

He started kissing down her neck, each touch of his lips leaving heat in its wake as his hands slid up under her shirt to grip her waist. She buried her fingers in his hair as he sucked on her pulse point, a deeper want stirring within her. He made a delicious noise when her hand clenched, and she experimentally tightened her grip as she pulled his head back so she could kiss him again.

"No hickies where anyone at work can see," she said against his lips, feeling him start to smirk.

"But the rest of you is fair game?" he asked, and she had to laugh, a little breathlessly.

"Possessive much?" she asked, and captured his lips again before he could respond. She nipped at his bottom lip, drawing a low groan out of him. "Bed?"

"Please," he murmured, and stood, leading her around the chair he had been in, barely able to stop kissing her for the moment it took her to clear the back. It did something for her, realizing that this person, who had definitely had more sex since she met him than she had in her entire life, couldn't stop touching her. That he wanted her that badly.

He walked backwards, his wings folded against his back. She didn't think he even realized they were still manifested, the way he was concentrating on running his hands up her sides and leaning down to kiss her. She half expected him to trip on the stairs up to his room, but should have known better. He'd probably done this exact thing a thousand times.

The thought had her suddenly self-conscious and feeling like she didn't know what she was doing. She must have gotten too distracted, worrying about all the ways she couldn't possibly measure up to the other people Lucifer had slept with, because he stopped them at the top of the stairs and pulled away, murmuring her name.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head a little. "Just got lost in thought."

"Then I must be doing something wrong," he said, and he looked like he was only half joking. So she smiled and stepped toward him, pulling his head down to kiss the worry off his face, but after a moment, he pulled back. "What's worrying you, darling? Second thoughts?" He was clearly trying to force some joviality into the question, but his eyes told a different story.

"Of course not," she said, letting him step slightly away, all the same. The worried look didn't fade, so she bit the bullet and said, "It's just... you've slept with so many people and I've..." she trailed off, feeling ridiculous. "Never mind, can we just-"

"I've never slept with anyone my powers don't work on," he said, smiling a little ruefully. "I don't think you're the one who has anything to worry about."

Before she could apologize for ruining the mood, he stepped back into her space, cupping her cheek and giving her a sweet kiss. His hands slid up her back, as she deepened it, skimming up to run his fingers under her bra band. She shivered a little, but her nervousness was slowly slipping away as she untucked his shirt and ran her hands up under it, across his flat stomach and up his sides, making him jerk a little.

"Ticklish?" she pulled away to ask with a grin fit for the Devil himself.

"A bit," he answered, unfailingly honest, and she ran her hand over the spot again. "If you're into that, I'm sure I can find a feather around here somewhere."

She laughed and said, "Another time," before starting to unbutton his shirt.

Once it was open, she realized that she had no idea how to get it off around his wings, and that they had migrated close enough to the bed for her to push him with one hand to fall back on it. His wings flared out in surprise as he went down, and he blinked at them, definitely having forgotten they were there.

"Sorry," he said, sitting up. "I forgot they were-"

"It's okay," she said, reaching out to run her hand over the top of one, making him shudder with pleasure. "I don't mind."

"Are you sure?" he asked, watching her warily. And maybe she should mind, maybe the reminder that he wasn't human should bother her more than it did, barely 24 hours after finding out the truth. But they were beautiful, and a part of him, and she might have a new kink if she were being honest with herself.

"I'm sure," she said, running a hand through his feathers again and leaning to kiss him. He had no objections, if the bulge in his trousers was anything to go by or the way he moaned into her mouth.

She pulled off her shirt and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor, before he could say another word. He watched hungrily, and wet his lips when she stood half-naked in front of him. When he reached out to brush a thumb over one of her nipples, she let her eyes flutter shut for a second as the feeling zinged through her, turning into an ache between her legs.

His hand left her, and her eyes popped up in time to see his adoring look. She couldn't help but smile softly at that, her hand going almost of its own accord to run through his hair. He leaned into her touch for a moment before reaching out to unbutton her pants.

"Okay?" he asked, his hand hovering over the zipper until she nodded. He pulled it down and slipped his hand inside, pressing against her wetness, the barrier of cotton panties between them making her groan in frustration. He grinned at that, and withdrew. As soon as his hand was out, she was hooking her thumbs into both her pants and her underwear, shimmying out of them and toeing off her socks until she stood before him, completely naked.

Before she could begin to feel self conscious about that, he was standing and pulling her toward him, one hand going to her breast and the other to her cheek as he kissed her again and rolled her nipple between his fingers, making her gasp into his mouth. Not willing to let him have all the fun, she reached down to his tented trousers, running her hand lightly up his cock through his clothes.

He groaned into her mouth and murmured, "Tease," before going to kiss her again.

"Maybe you should get more naked, then," she said after a moment of letting him explore her mouth some more, and stepped back to give him room. In a flash, he was standing and shucking off his clothes, his shirt coming off as though his wings weren't even there. She wanted to ask about that, but was pretty sure it would kill the mood and she'd done enough of that already that night.

As he undressed, she crawled onto the bed, settling back against the pillows. The ache at her core was already moving toward unbearable, so she slipped her hand down to finger herself, just as Lucifer was turning back to the bed in all his naked glory. And, oh, was he something to look at. She wanted to get her hands on him like nothing else, and beckoned him closer.

He hovered over her, his wings flaring a little for balance, and he began to kiss down her collarbone, then between her breasts, before latching onto one nipple to suck and nibble. She gasped, arching her back a little as his fingers went to toy with the other one. She could feel him smiling against her. In retaliation, she buried a hand in his hair, pulling it just a little, making him groan against her.

Then he was kissing down her stomach, the air of the penthouse cool against her wet nipple as he moved on. His hands brushed against her sides before he grabbed hold of her hips. When she realized where he was headed, she couldn't help but clench her fingers, still in his hair, as wetness flooded between her legs. It had been too long since someone went down on her.

Lucifer kissed the insides of her thighs, sucking a mark onto one of them. She was happy to let him take his time getting to where she really wanted, knowing that when it was his turn, she could pay him back for every second he took. Then she nearly shouted as he licked a strip up her center before fastening his lips around her clit.

She gasped and moaned, the sensations shooting through her as he backed off to press his tongue against her in short, hard strokes. He licked and sucked, and before she knew it, she was cresting a wave of pleasure, coming with a shout. He worked her through the aftershocks before looking up from between her legs, grinning with a glint in his eye, his mouth glistening with her juices.

"Good?" he asked, and she had to laugh.

"You know it was," she said, her thighs still trembling a bit from the explosive and fast climax. "I don't need to stroke your ego any more. Other parts of you, though..."

She tugged him back up to her so she could kiss him thoroughly, tasting her own juices as she did.

She let herself get lost in the kiss, her world narrowing down to Lucifer. The feel of his body pressed against her, the softness of feathers, his mouth on hers. She hadn't known just kissing someone could feel so _good_. She sighed happily and could feel Lucifer's lips quirk against hers.

In return, she slid her hand down him to grasp his cock. His hips jerked and he swore, clearly not expecting it. So she gave it a slow, experimental stroke, letting her fingers drag against the wetness at its tip. His head dropped as he let out a shuddering breath, hot against her skin.

She kept her touch light and buried her other hand in the feathers along the top of his wing, stroking firmly, her nails grazing against the warm skin underneath. Lucifer moaned against her skin, panting, his hips jerking with each stroke. She barely had to move her hand on his cock.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to come, and I'm not done with you yet," he said and let out a drawn out groan as she ran her hand through his feathers again and squeezed his cock.

"Which one?" she asked, feeling her smile grow bigger as he blinked at her, trying to bring his brain back online.

"Either," he said, "Both. I don't-" She did it again and his words cut off with a gasp.

"What happened to that legendary Lucifer stamina?" she couldn't help but tease him, but she let go of both his cock and his wing, and brought her hands to his face to draw him down for a hard kiss. She nibbled on his bottom lip, just hard enough to make him groan into her mouth before he pulled away to look at her, eyes shining.

"It seems everything's different with you," he said, a tinge of wonder in his voice. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before."

She couldn't help the smug smile that took over her face as she said, "Good." It was nice to know that, even here, in his domain, there were things she could do for him that no one else could. Even if she wasn't quite sure what they were.

The smile was wiped off quickly as Lucifer nipped her lip sharply, and she let out a gasped moan as he slid his fingers into her, stroking in and out and making her toes curl every time he used his thumb to press down on her clit. His fingers weren't enough, though, to sooth the ache that had been growing inside her as she teased him.

"Roll over," she said and he obliged, his wings spreading under him. She was careful where she put her knees as she straddled him and sunk down on him in one smooth motion. His hands went to her hips, and she braced herself on his chest as she began moving up and down, setting up a slow rhythm that he was soon matching with this hips.

As she ground down on him, little sparks of pleasure sung through her. It felt perfect, and right, and almost like she was coming home to have him under her and inside her. He was going to ruin her for all other men, she could tell.

Neither of them were quiet, gasping and moaning and making sure the other knew exactly what felt good. Chloe let out a string of curses — avoiding any mention of Lucifer's family by the skin of her teeth — as she found the right angle to rub against that bundle of nerves inside her. Between that, and Lucifer's fingers suddenly on her clit, she was falling over the edge again, her arms shaking where they braced her and her legs quivering.

He slowed for a moment, before rolling them again, his wings tight against his back as he began driving into her, muttering nonsense into her skin in between noises of pleasure. She couldn't do much to help, feeling shaky and wiped from having two orgasms so close together, but she could reach up with both hands and slide her fingers into his feathers again, whisper soft this time.

It didn't take more than a couple soft touches before he was coming, his wings flaring behind him, stretched to their fullest length. One knocked against the wall, but he didn't seem to notice as he panted and his hips jerked through aftershocks of pleasure.

As he slipped out of her, she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss her one more time. When she pulled back, it took a second for his eyes to flutter open, and then he was staring at her with such wonder in his eyes that she wanted to look away, to tell him she was nothing special and he should find himself someone more suited to him.

But the thoughts didn't last long, as he collapsed off of her and onto his side, slinging a hand over her waist as she cuddled up against him. He was still watching her as though he'd never seen anything like her before, and she rolled so she was facing him, both of them on their sides, so close they were breathing the same air.

"Any more doubts?" she couldn't help but ask, reaching out to lay a hand on his cheek. "About how much I want you?"

He laughed a little, under his breath, and leaned forward just enough to drop a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

"No," he said. "You've successfully driven them and all other coherent thought out of my head."

"Good," she said, her thumb sweeping across his cheekbone. "I'm glad."

At some point, his wings had disappeared, but she couldn't bring herself to complain, not with the way he was looking and the way he was looking _at her_. His eyelids drooped, but she could see him struggling to stay awake, to stay with her and in the moment. She let her hand drop from his face to find his own hand, slipping her fingers between his.

"I'm not going anywhere-" she said, getting up just long enough to fish her phone out of her pants and check the time before bringing it back to bed and snuggling up against him again "-for at least another hour. I'll wake you up before I go," she added and pressed a gently kiss against his mouth.

"I'm not falling asleep, that's ridiculous," he mumbled, indignant, and she just smiled fondly and squeezed his hand, watching as he drifted off. Even though he was the Devil, he was still such a man sometimes, but she couldn't find it in her to resent him for it. Especially not when her muscles ached pleasantly all over and she was starting to feel drowsy herself.

She set an alarm on her phone, and let herself drift off, secure in the knowledge that they were okay, that he'd be there when she woke up and that as much as everything had changed in the past 36 hours, nothing had changed at all. Lucifer was still the same person she knew, and she was still in love with him, and nothing, not even him being the Devil, could change that.

THE END


End file.
